


Cold Cream

by naturesinmyeye



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, sansan moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:58:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5084107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturesinmyeye/pseuds/naturesinmyeye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My entry for the 500 word russian roulette challenge on LJ. Written for LadyTP.  </p><p>The original prompt was - Sansa and Sandor argue and in the end Sansa has to admit to Sandor that she was wrong.</p><p>Sansa goofs handling a very delicate subject and has to apologize to Sandor. 542 words. So very close. Short and sweet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Cream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyTP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyTP/gifts).



He was furious with her. Well and truly furious, and Sansa had no one to blame but herself. She’d been thoughtless with her offering. Now he had stormed off in a rage.

 

It had all begun when she noticed his face at the end of the day. Training in the hot summer heat, in a tightly fitted helm, left half his face red and raw. He winced when he scrubbed at it in the bath. It certainly _looked_ painful.

 

So, she’d gone to the Maester and asked for an extra jar of the cream she used her self from time to time. Sometimes her shoes rubbed stinging blisters onto her feet. On days when she had to hold court from sunrise to sunset, the bones in her corset dug angry looking sores into her flesh. The cream helped calm the burn and facilitate healing. It seemed an ideal solution to her husband’s problem.

 

But when she’d given it to him her words had been wrong. She realized that now. She had tossed it to him, almost carelessly, while they dressed in the morning, saying she’d picked up something for his scars. When she turned around he was glaring at her.

 

“I didn’t know they offended the Lady so,” he spat, somehow hissing and growling all at the same time. Then he’d chucked the glass jar at their shared mirror and fled. Sansa hadn’t seen one hair of him the rest of the day. Stranger was missing from the stables.

 

She found him later that night; at the edge of their bed, sitting facing away from the door, in complete darkness. He often sought out darkness when he felt most lost. But it was always in a place where she could find him.

 

“I’m sorry,” she tried. He didn’t turn to her. Climbing up on the bed, she shuffled across the furs to close the distance between them. She kneeled, putting her belly to back with him. Her head lay on his shoulder.

 

“Do you recall when I was carrying Lizbeth? How you rubbed my feet for me? Or when you gave me the oil for the marks on my stomach? When I’m ill you make cook bring me the tea your mother used to give you?” She could feel the slightest tremble under her. “I didn’t give you the cream to insult you. I gave it to help you, my love. To ease a bit of your discomfort.”

 

He turned his head to press his cheek against the crown of her head. Sansa took it as a good sign and crawled her way under his arm to sit in his lap. “Please, don’t be angry,” she hushed. “I would never try and change you.” Her fingers slid to the buttons at the front of her dress, snapping open the first half dozen. Chest bared to him, she drew his face down to her waiting skin. His arms came up with speed to clutch at her back.

 

Later, he let her dab at his face her self. The cooling cream smeared across the worst spots of trouble while his eyes blinked rapidly and looked to the ceiling. When she was done with the cream her lips soothed any place her fingers had missed.

 


End file.
